#angsty Reiner!

[shingekinomyfeelings]

what you really are // 1st installment

Reiner finds that his first sexual encounter with a girl he truly cares for brings up a lot of memories and conflicted emotions. Reiner’s POV; honestly a casserole of angst, fluff, romantic drama, and Reiner being a big dumb idiot. I won't call it comedy, but it made me laugh.

As always, thoughts and comments mean so, so much to me. I really appreciate those of you who've followed me to read my stuff. It's so strange and funny to me that writing about this blonde mess of a man is what brought me back to writing for fun.

warnings: none yet; explicit sex in later installments, but nothing fetishy or triggery. Reiner is angsty, but is that really a warning?

Characters are cadets, but aged up to 19, don't come at me.

notes: uh, so, this one’s a little different from the usual.

It’s from Reiner’s point of view, which has been really fun to do. I’m really not sure how to tag it, though, because the girl in question is unnamed and descriptions are vague enough that she functions as a Reader or y/n, but since it’s from Reiner’s perspective, she’s never referred to as ‘you,’ so idfk if I should call it an x reader fic or an x oc.

It’s also pretty self-ship coded, but I’m starting to realize that most x reader fics are, when they’re written with real feeling and immersion, because a truly blank, universal ‘reader’ is lifeless, and we’re all writing about canon characters through our own lens of interpretation, so the entire fabric of fanfiction is deeply personal, and frankly I doubt anyone is even still reading this fuck it I wish I had apple juice

"Have you, um... have you ever slept with a girl before?"

The question, posed with shy curiosity, makes Reiner's brain skip a few beats along with his heart. He swallows, eyes wide for a moment, the faintest hint of pink creeping across his cheeks, and then he coughs quietly to regain his composure.

"Uhh... uh, a... few, yeah..." He rubs awkwardy at the back of his neck, not sure why he sounds apologetic. She doesn't look upset; she's simply gazing up at him with a slight tilt of her head, waiting for him to say more.

"It was just a few hookups with some girls from town,” he explains, a bit sheepishly. “Not even other cadets, just... strangers. Just some fun now and then, until we got bored of each other and moved on, which never took long. Pretty sure one didn't even tell me her real name."

His heart gives a tiny pang at the soft way she laughs at that, and he pauses for an awkward few seconds before he asks her, "Have you? Slept with... anyone?"

"Of course not," she answers, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I told you, you were my first kiss, remember?"

Oh. Right.

He nods, a little flustered. It’s not that he's forgotten that first kiss – it happened a little over two months ago, and while they've shared many more since then, it’s still the one that keeps him shamefully preoccupied at night when he should be sleeping – but for some reason, this conversation has him fumbling with both his thoughts and his words.

Of course he wants to; God, he wants to. He’s tried his best to hide how badly, not wanting to rush her. He’s never taken his flirting and teasing far enough to make it sound like he’s impatient. He’s even readjusted himself awkwardly many times when she jumps on him playfully, or when he’s pressed against her with his arms around her waist, and his body starts to get just a little carried away.

But, as their private moments together have become more heated, the subject has come up a few times, and she’s expressed interest, and now it’s even harder to keep all of his thoughts at bay. He can’t escape them even in his sleep, recently, though he would never in his life tell her the lurid ways he’s dreamed about her. Underneath all that constantly simmering lust that threatens to boil over a couple of times each day, though, Reiner has noticed other, unexpected feelings beginning to surface as well. Guilt. Sorrow. Hesitation. And...

He looks at her for a moment, the way her hair falls around her face and her shoulders, and the way her eyes are so kind and intent on him.

"Does it... uhh, does it make you nervous, knowing I've done that?" he asks, his eyes trained on hers.

She stares back up at him and asks blithely, "Does it make you nervous knowing I haven't?"

"Tsshh..." He makes a noise like she's just asked something ridiculous, and tries to roll his eyes a little for good measure, but he’s sure she sees through it, because she just smiles just a little more.

His hand reaches out to hers, where it rests on the ground, to lace their fingers together. She’s always seeing right through him; it’s annoying, but charming - and a liability, but so endearing...

She doesn’t see everything, though. If she did, she wouldn’t be here right now, sitting beside me, relaxed, letting me hold her hand.

He reminds himself of that at least once a day.

She would never let someone like me touch her. Why would she?

She sighs softly and bumps her head against his shoulder. “I don’t want it to make you nervous,” she tells him. “If we uh... end up doing that, I trust you, you know...”

You’re too sweet, he wants to tell her. I don’t deserve how sweet you are. I don’t deserve how much you trust me. One day you and everyone else are gonna find that out...

She must see the slight tension that crosses his features, because she plafully blows a puff of air into his ear, and he scoffs in feigned annoyance and puts an arm around her, releasing her hand to drape his on top of her head, ruffling her hair so that it falls across her face. Pulling her closer, he buries his face against her neck and kisses her as she half-assedly tries to squirm away.

He hates himself for feeling happy.

I’m the worst devil on this whole island.

[marcobodtlives]

AoT things I send people when I don’t know how to human and text normally:

[90sbee]

one thing you gotta know about me: if you put a tragic beefy blond dude in any sort of media i consume i will simply lose my mind btw. now i have to defend them forever and call them my babies for eternity. i am collecting these men.... conducting my research on why they own my ass like this.

[reyalvr]

i wanna write a reiner fic so bad but idk if my aot fics will do well <//3

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 05: twenty eight.

preview: ". . .It’s never been this bad with you. Hanma can’t recall the last time your words sounded as spiteful and bitter as they do now. A side of you he never thought he would see after losing you for a decade—but it can’t be helped when he’s adding fuel to the fire. Clearly, neither of you is ready to back down from the argument and Hanma was starting to shiver from the cold. . ."

content warning: v!olence, bl00d, cursing, thr0wing up, mentions of emetophobia, self depricating thoughts, arguments, angsty.

word count: 6k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

➜ note: guess who's back after months of writer's block, me!!! this chapter is one hell of a ride. I have been experimenting with the next step for at least a month and a half now and nothing sounded good to me. each time it would make me cringe so hopefully you like this chapter! i feel like i rarely do this, but what do you think is gonna happen next? do we like hanma? what do we think of the reader's decision? share with me your thoughts!!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

Growing up as a boy in Shinjuku wasn’t the most ideal plan, but Hanma doesn’t like to find excuses for the way he turned out. For the evil that he is–and is constantly surrounded by. For his own lack of empathy, of human emotion. Hanma doesn’t think it has anything to do with his childhood. After all, he can barely remember bits and pieces here and there–some that stand out to him more than the rest. Most of which include you haunting his every thought. 

At 12, Hanma first tasted violence against his father, landing blows with a fury that sent him to juvenile detention for a year. The months passed in a haze of paint peeling off the walls and whispered threats, but soon he was back on the streets of Shinjuku, a boy free again yet changed. 

The night was cold and dark. A single broken lamppost flickered weakly, its light barely cutting through the shadows. The electric buzzing pulled him from his thoughts, a sudden awareness that he'd been lost in his mind the whole walk home. 

His ears shift from the electric sound to the heavy, dull sound coming from a dark alleyway. A crack, then a moan in pain. It is accompanied with manic laughing, giggles even–and his feet start dragging him to the source of the commotion.

Going out after 10PM in Shinjuku was generally a safe option. The city was a bustling area known for its nightlife and entertainment. There were usually plenty of people around, even late at night. However, Hanma’s neighborhood wasn’t necessarily the safest. 

An old, poor neighborhood. Nestled between tall buildings and fancy shops, giving the people a false sense of being in one of the fanciest areas in the city. But it was far from being the truth. Hanma glances at the buildings, a mix of rusted metal and peeling paint glaring at him. He was used to the sight of worn out material and balconies filled with old bicycles. He could even see his own from where he was standing, a birthday gift from his father from 3 years ago, which meant that Hanma had outgrown it with the speed at which his limbs were getting long. 

Given the reputation of his neighborhood, this meant that people who would get beat up around here were oftentimes the ones who had fallen victim to the false sense of safety in the area. 

Hanma’s sandals drag against the concrete floor as he approaches the commotion, hands buried in the pockets of his shorts and the same uninterested look on his face doesn’t budge when he is greeted with the bruised and beaten up body of a boy around the same age as him. The guys responsible for this freeze when they turn around and see that there was another person present, a witness to the violence they had just committed on the boy who had refused to give them his bike as he was riding back from night classes. Their eyes landed on Hanma, who at 13, was only limbs and bones. One of them lets out a chuckle.

“You lookin’ to join him?” 

Hanma’s golden eyes snap from the boy’s figure to the one who talked. He looked older than him, perhaps Three or so years. 

“Is that an invitation?””

“I wouldn’t say so.” Another one adds, against the concrete wall. Hanma notes that he tries to appear smug and confident. He had an idea that the boy was quite the opposite. 

“More of a threat I’d say.” 

“I see.”

A beat of silence follows his nonchalant response, before his fist collides with the jaw of the leader of the trio. The alley filled with a cacophony of groans and the shuffle of worn out shoes on concrete. The leader lunged, fists swinging wildly, his breath heavy with panic as he tried to land a single punch on Hanma’s face.

Three bloodied and beaten up bodies later, Hanma watches as the bruised up boy crawls away from him in fear, curling on himself. Hanma doesn’t say anything as he approaches the boy. He stops and leans down, face dangerously close to his.

“Get the fuck out of here.” 

It takes Hanma 2 more years before getting nicknamed Shinjuku’s reaper. He says that he earned the title. And for the first time since forever, Hanma had finally found a source of entertainment, a way to kill time. However, he hadn’t killed. Not yet at least. 

When Hanma is 16, he spots you as you walk out of school. Your skirt was short, thigh high socks adorning your legs and he wondered just how soft your skin must be. But that was far from being his priority–not when he was walking around the area with blood coating his white shirt. 

He doesn’t expect you to spot him in the place where he is sitting, with a bottle of water in hand, desperately trying to get the blood off of his clothes. Not that it’s ever worked. However, you start approaching him and Hanma looks up from his crouched position, golden eyes boring into yours when you step in front of him with a frown adorning your gorgeous lips. (He’s always wanted to bite them).

“Are you okay?” 

He tilts his head to the side, quirking an eyebrow in confusion and perhaps a little offended that you were asking him of all people that question. The hint of worry painting your sympathetic tone, the slight furrow to your eyebrows as you keep glancing between his bloodied shirt and the bottle in his hands. Hanma feels something in him about to snap in your presence. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He replies gruffly, but you can’t seem to find any malice in his voice. Or the way he was staring you down despite you towering over him. 

“You have blood all over you.”

Oh. 

You didn’t know that it wasn’t his. And Hanma never told you otherwise. Instead, he took the handkerchief that you had offered him with a dull face–stuffed it in his pocket and watched as you walked away, never asking him to return the fabric. But Hanma being the teenager that he was, thought it would be the perfect opportunity to find you again and perhaps get to know you.

(How do people start conversations again?)

Like a ghost of a memory, Hanma can almost remember the feeling of the handkerchief in his hand. He remembers grazing his thumb over the letters etched onto the fabric, each time coming up with his own guess of what your first and last name were. The feeling of the letter H. is forever engraved in the forefront of his mind. The initial of your last name. 

The man’s trip down memory lane is cut short when he hears the sound of annoying flickering above him. Hanma’s eyes squint as he looks up, the electrical buzzing mocks him as it pulls him back to the present. His body aware. Alive yet inexplicably numb. 

The built up rust on the chair’s legs make a creaoing noise as Hanma leans back, soulless eyes staring at the dead body with a cold, unblinking gaze. Devoid of any emotion. Reflecting no light or life. He doesn’t remember when he first killed, but this was definitely not the last. His brain is all foggy as he tries to make sense of when his lust for blood first started–what made the death rattle sound so captivating, like a broken record–stuck in his head in a long, torturing loop. 

He doesn’t know. Hanma barely knows himself as he is. Referring to himself as Kisaki’s right hand was the closest thing to an identity. He wasn’t a son to anyone, nor a brother. And definitely not a lover.

The events from that night play on repeat in the forefront of his head, no longer trying to hide in the backseat where he keeps most of his unwanted memories. Instead, you plagued his mind. Like a shadow clinging onto the corner of his thoughts, always present–always there. You wouldn’t let him escape.

“Fuck you’re so sweet,”

You moan into his mouth when he angles his hips a certain way, Hanma grins victoriously against your lips and uses his hands to grab the back of your knees. Pushing them to your chest, he enjoys the sight of you taking his cock like a sweet girl. You’re so cock hungry, practically begging him to fuck you silly with those glossy eyes staring deeply into his.

He remembers the look on your face as you slept peacefully in your bed, still dirty with his own cum and spit–yet somehow looking so angelic. As though he hadn’t just ruined you. Like you didn’t have your legs wrapped around his waist and were begging him to fuck you harder, deeper–

Hanma’s finger twitches. A singular bullet cuts through the terrifying silence. 

One of the two bodyguards standing before him falls to the ground with a loud thud, his partner looks at his dead body in shock. Terrified, he cannot seem to pull his eyes away from the blood that starts to pool around the body. He is violently pulled out of his numbed state. Hanma’s chair makes a loud, creaking noise he pushes it further back and stands up. Golden eyes stare at his bloodied brown leather shoes and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Almost as though the sight of blood was getting on his nerves. Like he didn’t just take someone’s life unprovoked.  

Do you need a reason to hurt someone if you have power? 

“Clean it up.” Hanma’s cold voice echoes in the empty room, followed by retreating footsteps. As he reaches for his jacket, the chair tips and falls too the ground but neither he nor the bodyguard flinch at the loud noise. 

He doesn’t look back as he steps out of the room, simply typing something away on his phone and scoffing at the message that appears on the screen.

We need to talk.

“Fucking bastard.” 

—

The artificial light coming from the kitchen cuts through the thick shadows in your hallway, glaring at you from where you’re kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your apartment has never felt emptier. The door to your room is open– pushed ajar in a frenzy and the carpet in your hallway is moved to the side, messily. As though you almost tripped over it as you rushed to the end of the hallway where your bathroom is. At 2AM, you don’t expect people to still be outside, and it makes your chest ache and burn when you hear the occasional humming of a car driving by your building. 

And then you lurch forward again.

The bathroom is filled with heavy stillness, punctuated only by the sound of your stuttered breathing. You're hunched over the cold, unforgiving porcelain of the toilet, your body trembling and weak as your hand grips your hair, pushing it out of the way. Bile rises up to your throat, tears coating your lash line before you’re lurching forward yet again. Your stomach was empty. You didn’t have food to throw up again. 

You wish you could say that you were starting to get used to this, but you’ve always been scared of throwing up. Something about the taste of bile, the terrifying feeling of losing control over your body–the gagging and heaving. It scared you. Your bottom lip trembles and your entire body shakes as you brace yourself for another wave of nausea. The acidic taste burns in your throat, mixing with the metallic tang of fear and sleep deprivation. 

You’ve been throwing up all day. It simply wouldn’t go away.

When you lean away from the porcelain bowl and rest your body against the wall in exhaustion, you pray that your brain spares you yet another flashback. Another reminder of what had triggered this wave of nausea. You can’t get the feeling of his hands off of you, or how dirty and sickening it felt to wake up and feel that his cum was still inside you—the lack of proper aftercare, no sweet words whispered into your hair. Not the Hanma you thought he would be years later. He vanished like a whisper in a crowded room, fading so quickly that you almost wonder if he was ever there to begin with. Almost.

When you glance down at your thighs, you cringe at the stickiness of his cum despite having showered three times. You can feel the ghost touch of his hands gripping your thighs, his voice whispering filth into your ear as he pounded into you like a God. Last night, he was like a God to you. He knew where to touch, where to kiss, how to leave you breathless and clinging onto him like a lifeline–you felt stupid for being so enamored by the man and his dick. For letting him pull the plug so easily, rendering you the lifeless mess that you were on your bathroom floor. 

Beating yourself up was no longer an option though, you didn’t have the energy to hate yourself for what had happened. For thinking he had changed despite being so wary of him since day one. You couldn’t even say that you didn’t ignore the red flags because you did. That man was dangerous, and yet you still thought that you could get him to show a different side. 

The quietness in the bathroom is replaced with weak sobs.Your cheeks feel wet and hot and you wipe your tears and snot with the back of your hand. It feels so pathetic to be crying over a man, but even more so when it’s someone you initially thought you could trust. Small, pathetic, dirty–and the list of things he made you feel goes on. 

How pitiful of you to think you were any special to him. 

When the nausea fades away, you feel numb.

The burn in your heart is replaced with an indifference that magically lifts all of the weight off of your chest. You don’t process nor do you remember how you got off the floor, but your hands were now wet and the tap was running. Water splashes against your face. You don’t recognize yourself as you stare at your own reflection in the mirror. There’s exhaustion, dark circles sitting heavy under your eyes. You blink, then you are in the hallway.

Everything after that is a haze, unimportant to your brain as it moves on autopilot and carries you to your room, on your bed and then under the covers. The plushness of the pillow supports your head well, then you finally allow your neck and your jaw to relax. You had a headache, you realize. But it isn’t painful enough for your body to not allow itself to shut down–you don’t fight it.. You were tired.

You have work in the morning, your cat to feed and a few other errands to run. You don’t want to think about him. Just for a day, you want to forget your responsibilities, who you are.

Just for one day.

—

One does wonder how Toman went from a normal biker gang to the corrupt, ruthless, criminal organization that it became. Upon taking a closer look, at its new leader–everything starts to make sense. The way it’s driven by ambition, manipulation, and violence. All of it reflects the dark goals of its new leader. Kisaki Tetta. 

Under Kisaki's leadership, Toman became a shadow of its former self. What was once a gang driven by camaraderie, a sense of brotherhood, and a rough but genuine pursuit of justice, turned into a power-hungry and ruthless organization. Kisaki's manipulative nature corrupted the gang's original values, prioritizing control, fear, and personal gain over any sense of loyalty or righteousness. Everyone was constantly on edge, wary of betraying Kisaki's trust or failing to meet his expectations. His manipulative tactics ensured that everyone was either too scared or too loyal—and his form of punishment consisted of a single word.

Violence. 

Hanma embodied the violence that Kisaki needed to ensure that Toman was under his control. If Kisaki’s reaction to betrayal was scary, Hanma’s was terrifying. Savage, barbaric, ruthless. Tall man turned into an even more monstrous version of himself with the snap of Kisaki’s fingers.

However, that didn’t mean that Hanma was obedient. He was far from that.

Up on the last floor of the impressive, imposing building where all of Toman’s business takes place, resided the meeting room. A place where words are shared amongst the dangerous, corrupt men, with the sole promise of never telling a soul. However, the room was eerily silent. The knife that could cut through the thick tension was a testament to that. 

The long, round table is empty and the chairs are all pushed to the side messily. Tall windows overlook the gorgeous view of the lively city of Tokyo, the only sound that fills the conference room is the air conditioner and the honking of cars. When Kisaki first designed this room, he made sure that the walls were soundproof. And that whatever is shared behind those walls, stays inside. He did so partly to ensure the privacy of matters being shared amongst gang members, and to guarantee that no one outside would be able to hear what was going on.

There is a singular chair in the middle of the room. It stands out in an unsettling, uneasy manner. Perhaps because of its awkward placement, facing away from the table and more towards the door. Or maybe because Hanma appears cartoonish as he sits on the chair, long limbs and a bloodied face. Messy clothes that look like they had been almost forced off of his skin. 

Another harsh punch lands on Hanma’s face, his head whips to the side as he feels the blood trickle down his nose and he turns to look at the man before him with intense, golden eyes. Kisaki’s jaw clenches along with his fist and he raises it in the air. 

“You fuckin’ sick bastard.” 

The crazed smile on Hanma’s face makes Kisaki pull away from the man who was untied, still armed and so relaxed despite being repeatedly assaulted by the much shorter, weaker man. It was deeply unsettling even to a man as disturbing as Kisaki.   

“Nothin’ new to you.” Hanma’s tongue peeks out of his mouth to lick the blood trickling down his nose, the metallic taste feels euphoric against his taste buds and he bites his bottom lip. Harshly. Until it draws blood, and Kisaki’s chest is heaving, exhausted and filled with a fury that eggs on Hanma’s crazed state. 

“I’m warnin’ ya,” the short man walks towards the other side of the room, grabbing a few napkins to wipe his hands. The back of his hand then pushes away his sweaty strands of hair that were sticking to his forehead, before grabbing a bottle of water. “Either you fix your fucking self, or I put a bullet through your head.” 

When he hears no response, Kisaki turns around and realizes the grave mistake he made of lowering his guard in the presence of a man as unpredictable as Hanma. The cold barrel of the gun kisses his forehead, and his own icy blue eyes meet the tall man’s golden ones. 

“Put a bullet through my head, huh?” Sarcasm seeps into Hanma’s cold tone, and a scoff escapes his dry lips as he presses the gun harder against his leader’s forehead. “Gettin’ tired of me?” 

“Of your sick fucking games, yeah.” 

“So what if I killed a guy? That’s never been a problem to ya.”

“You killed one of the men under Bonten you piece of shit–!” Kisaki groans when he feels the back of the gun make harsh contact with his jaw, then Hanma’s fingers are pulling on his hair. His roots burn, and the angle at which Hanma’s making him stare at him makes his neck ache. 

“Watch your fucking tone with me,” Hanma sneers, nose scrunched up. This was the most emotion the man has shown since the start of the long, strenuous meeting. “You think I respect you?” a manic laugh escapes his lips. “I never did. I stayed ‘cause I thought you,” and he pulls at the shorter man’s hair again. “could keep me entertained.” 

“It must’ve worked if you stayed this long.” 

When neither Hanma nor Kisaki make an attempt to speak, nor move–Hanma’s hand slowly but carefully lets go of the shorter man’s hair. Followed by the gun retreating back to the holster that’s strapped to his pants’ belt. The room suddenly feels colder than usual, the sudden drop of adrenaline sends shivers down Hanma’s spine and the heat that was coursing through his body evaporates the moment he steps away from Kisaki to stare at his reflection in the tall windows. 

Shit, he looked rough. There was caked up blood in his hair, on his clothes. The buttons on his blouse were gone and his tie was messily undone. He is surprised he doesn’t have a black eye. Kisaki doesn’t aim that high, he thinks. But he still looks like he got beaten up. It doesn’t necessarily hurt, but it stings when he licks his lips. 

“You made a mess.” Kisaki announces as he walks towards the mini fridge situated in the deep corner of the conference room. “With Bonten. You made a huge fucking mistake.”

“I’ll take care of it–”

“Nah, that’s not the problem here–” the door to the fridge slams loudly and Kisaki crosses the room in a few, long strides. It’s impressive given his short stature. “You’ve been acting like a dick since the night you said you’re visiting her.” He stops in front of him and raises an eyebrow, eyes glaring daggers at Hanma’s now bare but bruised fingers. 

The leader still shoves a beer in Hanma’s hand who stands there, dumbfounded. Obviously, a man as smart and as calculating as Kisaki would be able to read through his bullshit. However, Hanma didn’t know how to approach the situation, nor did he know if he would be able to say it how it is. He didn’t have that kind of relationship with Kisaki, and he wasn’t going to spill his worries to the same man whom he pointed a gun at only a few moments prior.

Silence drapes over the two like a dense fog. It fills the room, suffocates it while obscuring the path of conversation and leaving the two men uncertain of what to do or say next. 

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

No questions asked, Kisaki allows his right hand to grab his belongings and rush out of the office, creating loud footsteps in his wake. Hanma’s big already big stature makes him look even more terrifying when he uses his physical prowess for his own benefit. He sloppily presses a button in the elevator and waits. Impatiently, the sound of his foot tapping against the sleek, reflective surface of dark granite, reaches his ears. He grows even more restless. The expensive watch strapped to his wrist seems to be mocking him, it refuses to go past 10:34PM and he wants to smack it against the walls. 

Soon enough, he hears the loud chime of the elevator blaring through the speakers installed inside. Stepping out of the moving platform, he is greeted by the dimly lit, expansive space that exudes an air of both luxury and danger. The floor is polished black marble, reflecting the faint lighting that runs along the edges of the ceiling. The lights cast eerie shadows on the floor, creating a sense of unease as if the space itself is alive.

Hanma doesn’t come here often anyway, and he is only here so that he could grab one of his cars. He isn’t sure if the one he drove to get here is still outside or if Kisaki got rid of it–he can’t risk wasting precious time.

—

It’s cold outside. 

There was something indescribable about staying inside your dimly lit apartment on a rainy night. The soft, rhythmic pitter-patter of rain taps against your windows, it soothes your nerves. You can barely hear the world outside, but in the background, a podcast plays softly—one of your favorites to wind down after a long day. 

 You catch snippets of phrases: “... and that’s when they discovered...” and “...the investigators came across...” The sound of the host’s voice is soothing despite the contents of the episode, like a soft caress, barely registering in your full attention.

Sitting on the carpet near your couch, you’re half-distracted. Having already tidied up the kitchen counter, you were now folding a blanket on the couch. Your movements are slow, almost methodical, you make note of not waking up your sleeping cat. It’s been a rough past two weeks. Being able to pick yourself up after going through something as challenging as that night was a miracle.

However, you weren’t one to back down or let something consume you. You couldn’t deny that your chest burned still, that the tears would coat your lash line every now then, as you tried to go on about your day. Whilst filling out paperworks, making dinner, feeding your cat–when you went to bed. 

You stare at the pile of laundry sitting next to the couch, thrown carelessly and half-forgotten as you busied yourself in the kitchen a few hours prior. Your eyes catch a glimpse of the familiar fabric of your nightgown. Uneasy, you avert your gaze.

The rain continues its gentle tapping rhythm, mingling with the murmur of the podcast. You glance towards the windows, and reluctantly stand up to close the curtains. It was a bit past your bedtime, and waking up in the morning is going to be difficult given the relaxing setting that the rain was creating. 

The tapping gets a bit louder, and you pause your movements to look outside. It doesn’t look like sleet, or maybe your vision was worsening? 

You flinch when the tapping turns into full blown knocking. It certainly wasn’t coming from the living room where you were. 

“What the fuck,” you whisper shakily, a hand flying to your chest as you feel your heart squeeze in anxiety. This has never happened to you before. 

Warily, you reach for your phone and the knife you washed only moments prior–you turn to the hallway, and the knocking gets louder.

“Who’s there?” you yell out. You don’t sound confident.

The wooden floor beneath your feet creaks as you approach your room. You always keep the door open, but the window isn’t visible from where you were standing. You can barely hear the podcast anymore, your ears are ringing and the only thing you were aware of was how tight your chest felt. The burn in your stomach comes back as you push the door open. 

“I said who’s–”

Your words are cut short when you spot the same black suit. But the one thing that makes you hold your breath is its disheveled and bloody appearance, as well as the way he was leaning against the fire escape. 

Drenched from the downpour, Hanma seems to have given up on covering himself and lets it soak his clothes further. His elbow rests on the metal railing, the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger long extinguished from the rain. You don’t realize how long you stood there, frozen and unresponsive–until Hanma tries again.

“Open the window.”

You snap out of your thoughts, hand clenching the knife’s handle as your face turns sour.

“Leave.” 

You’re not sure if he can ever hear you from outside. He leans into the window, pressing his ear against the glass when he sees your lips moving then shakes his head.

“Can’t hear you, doll–”

“Don’t call me that. Leave.” 

Despite his worrying appearance, the cuts and bruises on his pretty face and the way the rain was making his clothes stick to his body, you don’t want him to win. The ongoing war inside your head, one that he had created and ran away from like the coward that he was–you can’t just forget that. 

“We have to talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about. Goodnight.” You pretend to leave the room. You were ready to sacrifice sleeping on your comfortable, warm bed tonight if it meant getting him to leave. But alas, Hanma was a stubborn man.

The loud knocking starts again, and you angrily stomp back inside your room.

“Stop that! I have neighbors and you’re causing a scene!”

“Then open the window, doll.” 

“I will call the police.” You show him your phone, hand visibly shaking from your heightened emotions. Everything was happening so fast. So unexpectedly. You were growing weary of the tall man appearing just when you were beginning to come to terms with his hurtful actions. 

“The police, huh?” You see him wipe his face, but it’s useless given how strong the rain was. “Didn’t take you for such a scaredy cat.”

“I’m not scared,” your high pitched voice would say otherwise. “You’re disturbing my night. I don’t want you here.”

Neither of you say a word after. The rain seems to slow down and the harsh sound of droplets tapping against your window is replaced with a soft pitter patter. Your breathing slows down, but the burn in your stomach is still there. The longer you stare into his golden eyes, the harder it gets to approach that damn window and let him inside. 

I can’t forgive you. You hurt me.

You avert your gaze, afraid that your face will give away the hurt that was eating you up from the inside. 

“I freaked out.” Now that the downpour has subsided, Hanma’s deep voice was loud and clear. You look up, he was no longer leaning against the railing, bracing himself on the brick walls and leaning into the window. “It was too much.”

“Us having sex was… too much?” You make no attempt to read between the lines. You don’t think he deserves the benefit of the doubt, not after the stunt he pulled.

“..Yeah.” 

“Oh fuck you.” Hanma watches as you angrily stomp towards the window to pull the curtains.

“Wait wait–!” 

“I waited long enough. For two weeks, I waited for you to send a text message–give me a call–nothing!” Heat rises to your cheeks and Hanma sees that your eyes are now glossed over. “You used me.”

“So did you–”

“You fucking left me without bothering to clean me up!” The hurt in your tone makes him flinch. He squeezes his eyes shut, furrowing his eyebrows. 

He can feel a headache coming in. 

“Do you always expect boyfriend treatment from your one night stands?” This man knew how to make your blood boil. 

“Boyfriend treatment? I feel bad for the women you’ve slept with.” You scoff. 

“This is why I fucking freaked out.” He was loud but you didn’t care about disturbing the neighbors anymore. “You’re taking is so fucking seriously like we’re dating or some shit.”

“I wasn’t waiting for you to act like a boyfriend. You’re a coward when it comes to love,” your words drip like venom. “I just thought that as my friend, you’d be decent enough and clean me up.” 

It’s never been this bad with you. Hanma can’t recall the last time your words sounded as spiteful and bitter as they do now. A side of you he never thought he would see after losing you for a decade—but it can’t be helped when he’s adding fuel to the fire.

Clearly, neither of you is ready to back down from the argument and Hanma was starting to shiver from the cold. He can’t even light a cigarette. He punches the wall lightly before straightening his back, staring to the side. 

Hanma came here to talk about what happened— He already knew you would be disappointed, slightly hurt–(ended up being more than slightly)--but he thought it would be over soon. That you’d listen. 

“I want–” Just as your jaw was starting to relax, Hanma breaks the silence. “I’m good at striking deals.”

“Huh?” 

“Did you like it?” you feel heat rush to your face and you’re staring at him dumbfounded.

“What?!”

“That night. Lack of aftercare aside, was I good?” Hanma knows the answer and you were aware of that. You didn’t want to stroke his ego, let him know that it was the best sex you had in a while. It would overshadow the hurt you were feeling, and you didn’t want to give him the impression that he was free to walk all over you.

“I felt good.”

“So did I.” 

The rain had stopped. The man’s voice was loud and clear as he confessed to you that having sex with you felt good. 

(That you made him feel good).

“I’m a busy man. I can’t be around all the time,” a tattooed hand wipes his face before staring at you. “But if either of us is feeling horny–”

“For fuck’s sake–” you are flustered as you scramble to unlock the window. Pushing it open, you refuse to meet his gaze as you step to the side. “Come inside.”

Chuckling to himself, a lazy grin adorns his lips as he steps inside your room. The set up is familiar to him, but he still can’t help but stare at your bed. Your mattress and pillows.

He is reminded that the comfort he felt in your space is only temporary, golden eyes glancing towards your arms crossed over your chest. The gesture brings attention the necklace adorning your chest, your fingers holding onto the pendent tightly.

Huh?

The tall man brushes off the foreign feeling in his stomach, focusing on the way you seem to be wary of him even whilst letting him in your bedroom.

"You're a busy man, but can become available for sex?"

"I am not always free"

"Right."

"Just every now and then."

"Sure."

"When it's really necessary"

"Mhm,"

The dynamic is entirely different compared to last time, and Hanma only has himself to blame. He watches as you silently retreat from your bedroom, disappearing into the hallway. You don't bother to check on him. There was no need to act like your apartment was a foreign territory to the tall man.

Stepping into the hallway, a loud "oof" bounces against the walls as a towel lands on his face. Removing it from his head, sun gilded eyes follow your figure as you sit on the couch, busying yourself with the remote control.

(He doesn't remember you ever liking TV).

"You'll catch a cold," you say in between skimming through channels, aimlessly.

The soft fabric ruffles his hair, but it's futile given how soaked he was. Hanma doesn't say a word. He places the towel on the kitchen counter, brown leathed shoes carrying him across the wooden floor towards the entrance.

Grabbing the door knob, the tall man speaks up.

"I'm...I have to go."

Golden eyes bore into your side, burning shapes and promises into your soul so intensely that you are forced to pull your eyes away from your big screen and towards the same disheveled man. Soaked and bloodied, you pull your eyes away.

"I know."

༉‧₊˚. interested in commissioning me? if not, leave a ko-fi!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[daisynik7]

hello !! can i make a smutty reiner request of married life and reiners a dad ? can be angsty if you want . you’re a genius when it comes to writing . i’ll love anything you write down (i always do)!!

Pairing: husband!Reiner x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: established relationship, smut – PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, fingering, breeding kink, Reiner is a daddy!, fluff, very light angst (reader feels self-conscious after giving birth), talk about weight gain/loss (not much)

Author’s Note: Sweet nonnie, you are too kind. Thank you for the request and I hope you like this! Short, sweet, and of course, smutty. Enjoy! Divider by @/cafekitsune.

“She said dada! She said dada!” Reiner cheers at the kitchen table, spoonful of mushy carrots in his hand, feeding your daughter in her highchair. 

You stand beside them, smiling. “Can you make her do it again?”

“Kara, can you say dada? Dada?” She blinks at him, giggling, tiny hand reaching for the spoon. He gives it to her, chuckling. “I guess she got stage fright once mommy showed up.” He turns to you, giving you a cocky smirk. 

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

“Yup. You’re putting too much pressure on her. You gotta let it come out naturally, y’know?”

You sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder, sighing. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You okay?” he asks, concerned.

You nod silently, eyes closed. He sets his hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Hey, seriously, what’s wrong?”

Fingers intwined in his, you answer, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Uh-oh. That’s definitely a lie,” he teases.

You nudge him in the ribs playfully. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, sweetie. What is it? Tell me.”

After a deep breath, you confess, “I’ve just been feeling a little self-conscious lately.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. It’s been over a year now and I still haven’t lost any of the baby weight. It seems like with all my friends, they were able to shed it after a year. But it’s been hard for me. I don’t know.”

He doesn’t respond right away, thinking carefully about what he wants to say. Eventually, he comments, “I know you won’t believe me, but you’re more beautiful now than ever before.”

You laugh. “You have to say that. You’re my husband.”

“But have I ever lied to you?”

It doesn’t take you long to answer because he actually never has. “No, you haven’t.”

He nuzzles his head against yours. “Listen to me: Every single day we’re together, I fall deeper in love with you. In fact, every single minute, every second, you’re on my mind. And all I can think about is how lucky I am to be with you. And the fact that she,” he points to Kara, “came out of you shows that you are the most beautiful. Honestly, our baby is the prettiest, therefore, you are also the prettiest. It’s basic science.”

Your heart swells in your chest, tears filling your eyes. With a smooch on the cheek, you tell him, “You’re so corny, you know that?”

He faces you to give you a kiss. “And…?”

“I love you. So much.”

“That’s my girl,” he coos. He presses his lips to your forehead. “You dazzle me constantly. I truly mean that.”

~~~

Later that night, with Kara sleeping peacefully in her crib, Reiner proves to you how beautiful you are. 

The both of you are naked in bed, your legs spread wide for him with his head between, sucking at your throbbing clit. He’s always been good at this, but tonight, he gives it to you like never before, desperate to show you how much he desires you. He laps at your wet cunt, collecting your slick to smear it over your bud. He shakes his head, spreading his tongue wide on you to lick every sensitive inch. And he doesn’t stop when you whine that it’s, “too much,” or “too sensitive,” because he’ll be damned if he lets his gorgeous wife feel insecure ever again. He wants it ingrained in you how much he cherishes you, body, soul, every fiber of your being. 

He slides his fingers into your pussy, slipping in easily from your orgasms. Curling at the tips, he hits your G-spot, sucking on your clit, smirking as you twitch from the stimulation. 

“Fuck! Baby! I –”              

“It’s okay, honey,” he muffles, mouth still latched to you. “You can come again. Don’t be shy. Give it to me.”

Your body buzzes with ecstasy, radiating all the way down to your toes. He finally removes himself from you, lightly tapping on your swollen bud with slippery fingers. “You’re beautiful. I love seeing you like this.”

“Rei,” you whimper, twisting your legs around him, eager for his cock.

“Not yet, sweetie. Let me worship you a little while longer.” He leans down, kissing your stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his tongue. You watch him, running your fingers through his hair. “I love every single thing about you,” he whispers, trailing up to your breast, suckling at your nipple. “Every part of this gorgeous body.”

He explores your curves and peaks, the crook of your neck, the inside of your mouth, until he guides himself inside you, pumping his cock into your pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him tightly, wanting to melt into him. He continues to kiss you sloppily, dribbling his spit into your mouth. “Fuck, sweetie,” he moans, his thrusts increasing in pace. “I’m so close.”

“Fill me up, Rei. Please.”

“You want me to fuck another baby in you? Want me to make this cute belly round again, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait. I can’t wait, honey. You’re so beautiful, fuck.” He spills inside you, cock spurting his load into your womb. He watches as he slowly pulls out, enjoying the sight of your throbbing pussy gushing with his cum. 

As big spoon, he cuddles you, sliding his arm over your waist, kissing the back of your neck, dewy with perspiration. “I love you, beautiful. I hope you don’t get tired of me saying that.”

You squeeze his hand in yours, smiling. “Never.” 

[imjustasimpxd]

My Angel (Part Two)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : around 5, 200 words

Warnings : Again, very angsty. Reiner feels guilty about what he’s done, reader is angry with him. Crying, mentions of heartbreak. Spoilers for season 4 part one.

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

❗️Important Note❗️

There will in fact be a part three! While I was writing part two, it ended up becoming so long that I just decided to split it up. That’s why this chapter leaves off on a cliffhanger (and that’s also why it took me so long to post this one). But I thank you all for your patience. If anyone else wants to be tagged for part three then let me know in the comments! :)))

“Can I please ask where exactly we’re going?” Reiner questioned, his voice lacing with a hint of annoyance as Falco gripped his arm, anxiously pulling him towards the city’s back alleys.

“I told you it’s a surprise! A friend of yours wants to say hi before the show starts!” Falco explained, glancing backward at his superior with a cheerful smile as he continued to pull him in the opposite direction.

“Is that right?” Reiner spoke sarcastically, scoffing quietly to himself as he took in the boy’s words.

What was Falco really up to?

Surely the whole “a friend wants to say hi” explanation was made up; because Reiner Braun wasn’t exactly a man you would think of as having friends.

Sure, he was surrounded by people a lot of the time, and he even had allies with whom he got along pretty well with. But even so, Reiner knew he was nothing more than a comrade to them; nothing more than a vessel to wield the armored titan.

But that was okay, because they were nothing more than comrades to him.

With being born Eldian as well as being a warrior for Marley’s military force, Reiner Braun didn’t exactly have the time, luxury, or frankly, the mental strength to seek out any social interactions beyond strictly work-related ones.

Well, at least, not anymore.

He made that mistake once, and in doing so, it cost him the demolition of a poor woman’s heart; as well as his own.

In fear that opening up to another person again might cause that beating vessel in his chest to truly see itself past repair, Reiner Braun had decided to close himself off from others, refusing to repeat those tragic events of his past.

So, with that in mind, who exactly was this “person” that Falco was happily dragging him by the arm to see?

It couldn’t have been anyone he was genuinely close with; there wasn’t anyone like that for him, not anymore at least. Any authentic connections he once had with people were now severed, collapsed by the calamity he caused back on that forsaken island.

So who on earth was he being forced to see?

“It’s just in here!” Falco said excitedly, his finger pointing toward a wooden door as they rounded the corner; one that lead to a basement stationed under an older apartment complex.

From the outside, the place looked dim and run down, its location secluded to a quiet and unfrequented street.

The very sight had Reiner scratching his head in confusion. Of all places, why here? Why pick such an isolated area to meet with him? Not only that, but why would this person send a naive little boy to escort him to this place instead of just contacting Reiner directly?

Was this a trap he was walking into?

Should he leave?

Like a flame set to brush, panic began spreading through Reiner’s veins. His free hand was gripped into a strained fist and his eyes darted in all directions, watching out for any surprise attacks.

If this really was a trap, if someone was anticipating charging at him, then he’d be ready for it.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened. Loud groans from the beat-down hinges filled the air, followed by the sound of footsteps; footsteps that belonged to a dark, hooded figure.

Reiner’s eyes widened at the scene before him, an eerie feeling twisting in his stomach as he watched the mysterious person walk out the door; heading in his direction.

Whoever it was, he thought about fighting them off, even going as far as raising both his hands in the air to assume a defensive stance.

However, that’s when he caught a glimpse of Falco next to him. The little boy had started to head towards the figure, almost as if he was acquainted with the human; if it even was human.

“Falco wait!” Reiner quickly followed in the boy’s footsteps, gripping his arm before he could walk any closer to the person. “We should leave.” He suggested, anxiously tugging on the boy’s limb in hopes to urge him back in the opposite direction.

“It’s okay Mr. Braun,” Falco smiled, quick to reassure his superior. “This is where he said to meet him.”

Who’s he? Was it that person lurking around with the cloak draped across their face? Or was there someone inside as well?

Reiner didn’t have any answers, nor did he have a definite resolve on how to react in this situation. Should he trust Falco’s judgment and allow this “meetup” to happen? Or should he grab the boy and run while he still had the chance?

The latter seemed like the best option, especially considering the fact that Falco was just a child, and therefore could’ve easily been manipulated into something dangerous.

He wanted to trust Falco’s words, but it was too risky. If something happened, the boy’s blood would be on Reiner’s hands; and he couldn’t bear the weight of any more sorrow, or any more guilt.

“We’re leaving, Falco!” Reiner insisted, readjusting his grip on the boy’s arm to forcefully pull him away from the situation.

Although, just as he’d turned around to take those first few steps, he heard something that made his body freeze, and his heart clench.

“If you’re done arguing you can go on ahead. He’s waiting for you inside.”

That voice. Reiner knew that voice.

It was the same one he used to hear nagging at him to wake up in the early mornings. The same voice that used to comfort him whenever he was feeling disheartened.

It was… the same voice he never thought he’d have the pleasure of hearing ever again…

All he received was one simple sentence, but that was all the verification he needed. There was no doubt in his mind, the voice he heard: belonged to you.

“Y/n?!” His body immediately turned around to face the hooded figure. His eyes then squinted, trying to see more than just the gentle silhouette of a pair of lips and a jawline that was exposed by the moonlight’s glow.

The figure froze at his words, saying nothing in response; almost as if they didn’t anticipate being recognized.

“Y/n, is that you?” Reiner asked again, hoping to earn a response this time.

However, there was none; at least, not a verbal one.

All he gained was a sudden flinch that occurred once he spoke that name a second time, followed by the subtle shaking of fingertips that poked out from the sleeves of the cloak.

You must’ve been scared, embarrassed; perhaps even both.

And who would blame you for it? The last time you saw him he had slaughtered more than half of your comrades. Who knows what he’s capable of now after four years have passed?

“Falco?” Reiner finally broke the silence, glancing down at the boy he was still holding on to. “Why don’t you go on inside, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

However, before the boy could open his mouth to speak, he was quickly interrupted. “There’s no reason for him to leave! I’m not staying to chat.” A stern voice echoed past the cloak covering your face, but that didn’t phase Reiner.

He knew it was you from the moment that first syllable left your lips, even more so now that you’d spoken a second time.

Your tone was serious, added with a hint of aggression in order to scare him off, but he wouldn’t be turned away by that. Not when this was the chance he’d been silently praying for ever since he left that island four years ago. The chance to finally see you once again, even for just a moment.

Now that this chance was finally here, standing in front of him, there was no way he’d let it slip away; regardless of the tone you used with him.

“Just a few minutes?!” He insisted, taking a few steps forward in case you were preparing to run away. “Please?” He asked in a much quieter tone, his eyes practically begging for you to give in, to grant him even the smallest portion of your time.

Even after all these years he still knew how to persuade you, didn’t he? He must’ve, otherwise, your mouth would’ve never opened to let out a frustrated “Five minutes and that’s it!”

Reiner’s shoulders quickly relaxed at your words. His head then turned towards Falco subsequently, giving him a quick nod of his head: which apparently was his signal to “get going.”

Falco’s gaze switched between Reiner and the person he was apparently dying to speak to. The boy was unsure of what was going on, or who that unidentified person even was, but nevertheless, Falco knew better than to argue with his superior; so he’d comply with the orders given to him.

“S-sure…I’ll just, be inside then…” Falco spoke hesitantly, slowly backing away to walk toward the wooden door. He stopped momentarily after placing his fingers on the handle, almost as if he was waiting for Reiner to change his mind. But after receiving no signs of a change of heart, Falco reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside; closing it behind him.

The moment that wooden door shut, an unpleasant silence filled the air. Instead of partaking in the “conversation” you were supposed to have, the two of you just stood in silence.

You didn’t dare speak up. Reiner was the one who made you stay after all, if anyone should be the first to start this conversation it was him.

Your eyes were fixated on him with a calloused glare, your lips refusing to part even the slightest bit.

Reiner on the other hand, wore an expression more timid and anxious than yours.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, fingers fidgeting with each other as he contemplated the best way to start this conversation.

“I uh…” He tried to speak, but the words fumbled in his mouth, leaving just as quickly as they came.

It’s ironic, just a moment ago he was begging for you to stay so that he could have the chance to talk to you, but now that his chance had finally arrived, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

As he stood there, overanalyzing a potential response, he noticed the way you scoffed, clearly annoyed at his delay in response.

You were growing impatient with him, and if he didn’t take the opportunity to speak with you now, you’d most likely never allow him another chance to waste your time again.

So, after what had seemed like hours of silence, when in reality was more like 1 minute, Reiner finally spoke up.

“Can you take off the hood?”

Your eyes quickly narrowed in confusion at his odd request. Out of everything he could’ve asked, everything he could’ve apologized for, this is the first thing he says?

“Why?” You questioned, still unsure of his intentions on the matter.

“I just…” He began, but his words quickly started to fade out, almost as if he felt unworthy to be asking in the first place.

Nevertheless, you were persistent.

“You just what?!” You snapped, frustrated at his apparent dedication to withhold information from you; a recurring dedication at that.

“I just…” he inhaled shakily before speaking, “I want to see your face.”

You paused at his words, taking a moment to process what he’d just said. After expecting something pitiful, or perhaps even bitter coming from him, it was quite a shock to receive this: a fairly tender request.

He wanted to see your face? Why? What difference would that make?

It’d be the same one he saw four years ago, nothing’s changed; at least, not to you.

Despite asking for something which would require him to look upwards, Reiner kept his eyes glued to the ground, as if he felt undeserving to see you again. It wasn’t until he heard the heavy sigh that jerked past your lips, along with the quiet “fine” you gave in response to his request that made him finally look up.

As his gaze lifted, watching you pull that gloomy hood off your head, Reiner was met with a flashback of memories.

It all reappeared in an instant: the sound of your adorable laugh, the way your hair looked when the sun glistened across it, even the small little habits he’d discovered about you as time went by; they were all coming back, recollecting in his mind clearer than if it all happened a day ago.

Reminding him, painfully, of a time when things were simpler, when he was happier, and, most regretfully, a time when he had you.

Pulling off that hood allowed him to finally lay eyes upon a face he hadn’t seen in ages. A face he used to watch soundly sleeping next to him at night, placing gentle kisses all over when no one was around.

It was the same face he used to stare at in fascination; taken back by the beautiful way your lips would curve upwards into a smile, or even the way your eyes radiated the most alluring shade of color when the sun shone across your skin.

That face was one he had desperately longed to observe once more for the entirety of four long years, and coincidentally, it was the same face that now stared him down with an irritated glare.

Absent was the sparkle your eyes once held for the man standing before you, and gone was the loving countenance you were never hesitant to grant him.

Now your face lay still, your features refusing to move even the smallest bit in case it were to form some sort of pleasant expression towards him accidentally.

Who was this woman?

If not for the fact that he had easily identified her face, Reiner wouldn’t have recognized her.

Where was the kind and loving woman he fell in love with? Was she not the one standing before him now?

No, this woman was different. This one seemed to hold an inkling of abhorrence towards him, easily provoked by just his presence alone.

Was this… the product of his own making?

Was this… what he’d turned you into?

As if he wasn’t tormented enough by his decision, now he was witnessing the consequences of his actions unfold before his very eyes.

“How.. how are you here?” Reiner stuttered, still in shock over the fact that you were actually standing there; that for whatever reason, his prayers to see you again had finally been answered.

“I’m only here in service of a friend; nothing else.”

Your response was so vague, so cold; nothing like the endearing way you used to speak to him.

“Which friend?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You replied forbiddingly. Your tone sounded so distant, so unfriendly towards him.

To think, the last time he heard your voice, it had told him “Goodnight, I love you.” But now that voice was harsh as it spoke, probably regretful of saying those very words after waking up to find out he’d abandoned you that next morning.

The difference in your tone was beginning to eat away at Reiner, straining that beating vessel in his chest more and more with each look of your indignant expression. As if you’d just picked up a shovel and started digging, deepening his guilt further than it already was; if that was even possible.

“Your minutes are up by the way, and I have to leave.” You suddenly spoke, hoping your statement was bleak enough to end the conversation, meaning you could finally leave; finally be free of him.

“Wait!” Just before you could escape, Reiner quickly reached forward and grabbed your wrist, clinging to it as if his life was hinging on it. “Wait please, don’t leave…”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He deserved that. Honestly, he deserved more than that.

Call him whatever names you could think of, and he would let you, he’d allow every single one of them, no matter how excruciating, because he knew they were true; because deep down he knew he deserved them.

“I’m not interested in what you have to say, Reiner.” Your words were like knives to his heart, causing the already aching organ to shudder yet again. “Whatever it is you should’ve said it four years ago.”

Was that true?

If he really did explain it to you before he left, would things be different now? Would you have understood his situation? Understood why he had to do it?

Why he had to leave?

“Please,” he implored, desperately maintaining that grip on your wrist. “Please, just let me explain it to you.”

It was pathetic, how he was begging like this, pleading for you to stay and hear him out as if he wasn’t the one that left you in the first place.

“Nothing you say will change what happened.”

He knew that was true, but in spite of that, he still refused to let you go again without telling you, without apologizing at the very least.

“I know,” he admitted, a glossy haze shimmering in his eyes as he looked at you. “But please, I want you to know the truth.”

A part of you wanted to leave, to deny him any further chances to cause you more pain with an explanation. However, another part of you wanted an apology. You wanted to hear his side of the story; to hear whatever excuse he had for abandoning you. No matter how twisted, or pitiful, his reasoning was, you couldn’t deny you had questions you wanted him to answer.

“Fine then. Tell me.” You quickly adjusted your posture, staring at him with your eyebrows raised; a gesture he remembered you only used when you were serious about something.

“Why did you betray us?”

Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for since this conflict arose: his chance to finally be understood, to be seen as more than just the traitor he was made out to be.

“I was given orders,” he started, retracting his hand from your wrist now that you’d clearly abandoned the option to run. “I had no choice but to follow them.”

“And what were your orders?” Your voice sounded heavy, almost as if it was hurting to bring all this back up again; like a wound that was still fresh, still desperately trying to heal itself.

Reiner’s mouth remained shut, his head lowering as he closed his eyes, not wanting to answer your question. He knew he’d be made to look like the villain no matter what he said, no matter which way he worded it.

Did that mean he really was the villain?

In your eyes, maybe.

Perhaps you’d never accept his side of the story, never be able to see past the wretched sins he’d carried out. But regardless, even if he never got the forgiveness he so desperately wanted from you, he couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. It was time to embrace it, all of it.

“They told us to sneak in and make allies first, that way we had the people’s trust and no one would suspect us.” He sighed, his eyes refusing to look up at you in fear of the face you’d make upon hearing his confession. “Once the time came, we were ordered to steal the founding titan by whatever means necessary. And if anyone tried to stop us, we had permission to silence them, using whatever tactics we deemed fit.”

Reiner’s heart felt tight as he let those words out, his shame growing stronger now that he was remembering it all, remembering what he’d done.

How did things end up like this?

He was just trying to do what he was trained to do: save the world from ruin; that’s all. But here he was now, that mission an embarrassing failure as he reminisced on his actions; the same actions that caused such sorrow for so many people, including himself.

And as if things weren’t bad enough, as if Reiner wasn’t feeling guilty already, he heard a sudden change in your breathing that could only mean one thing: you were beginning to cry.

“No, wait!” His head quickly lifted to look at you, instantly regretting it as your distressed face came into view. “Please, don’t cry.” He begged, using his thumb to wipe away the liquid collecting on your skin; which you surprisingly allowed him to do without putting up a fight.

“Don’t cry, okay? Not for me.” He demanded, despite his own eyes welling up with tears as well.

He just couldn’t bear it, knowing he was hurting you yet again.

It was almost as if nothing had changed, even after all those years. As if he was reliving those horrors of his past once more, reliving that anguish he saw imprinted across your visage when you found out he was the armored titan; the same armored titan that had killed so many of your friends.

You didn’t understand it, even now.

Was the man who used to dote on you really the same person as the one who carried out such violence and hatred against your people?

How could that be true? How could he have done such a thing, committed such betrayal against the woman he loved?

What changed? Was it something you did?

Or perhaps a more gut-wrenching explanation: he never loved you to begin with. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to give you up, maybe, this was his plan all along.

“What else?” You asked, your voice trembling in the process.

Reiner’s face quickly scrunched in confusion, unsure of what you were getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Were those your only orders?” Tears quickly began trickling down your face faster than Reiner could stop, your gaze looking more despondent than ever. “Was there really not anything else?” Your lips parted to let out a stinging sob, one that seemed like it’d been held in for too long.

It was obvious you were waiting for some sort of answer from him, and every second he delayed with a response was only tormenting you further.

But, even so, it didn’t change the fact that Reiner didn’t understand what you were asking of him; or what you wanted to hear so badly.

Your eyes stared at him in sorrow, more tears absorbing into your skin before you asked your question one last time; phrasing it differently now.

“Was falling in love with me a part of your mission too? Was I just another means to accomplish your end goal?”

Reiner’s heart convulsed at your words, his mouth agape to let out a pained gasp.

Did he just hear that right?

A tool?! Is that really what you thought? Is that really all you assumed you were worth to him?

As if you could ever be such a thing.

Granted, he understood how you may have assumed that, given the matter of his betrayal and all. But, despite that, he never expected such an absurd accusation.

There was a wide range of names you could’ve called him: a traitor, a liar, a monster; anything, and he would’ve accepted it; He would’ve owned up to it.

But this: questioning whether or not his affection towards you was genuine; that was one accusation he’d never admit to.

You were never a tool, you weren’t even a part of his plan to begin with. Falling in love with a woman of Paradis wasn’t exactly one of the orders he received when he was assigned to that mission. In fact, getting involved with you went against the sole purpose of him being there; the sole purpose of his assignment.

He was sent there to exterminate the Eldian race, to wipe out every last one of those despicable beings so that the world could finally be safe.

Falling in love wasn’t an order laid out in his job description at all, much less with a woman of Paradis. And yet, he did.

Reiner was a strategic man, he wasn’t one to easily abandon orders, no matter how difficult they may be. That in itself should’ve been enough to prove his affection toward you; because he never would’ve done such a thing had he not felt it was worth it, had he not felt you were worth it.

Nevertheless, here you were, teeth gritted in frustration as you impatiently awaited his answer.

Your face spoke only of torment, and it pained Reiner to have to witness it. The way your eyes were slanting together in an unsuccessful attempt to subdue your tears, your fingers curling into fists to help better contain your irritation, all of it was a clear sign of the repercussions his decision to abandon the woman he loved had caused.

It was just like the last time, you were falling to pieces over him once more, and Reiner couldn’t stand the sight of it.

Your gentle cries may not have been as loud and mournful as they were four years ago, but it didn’t matter; the fact that you were even crying in the first place was enough to make that twisting sensation return to his stomach; possibly becoming permanent at this rate.

Reiner stretched his arm out to grasp your hand, hoping to console you, however, you quickly backed away, refusing to let him touch you.

“I don’t want your pity!” you spat, your fragile body trembling from both the anger and suffering fueling inside. “I just want the truth! Did you ever love me?”

Was that even a question?

Yes, he was fully aware that it would’ve been hard to believe the authenticity of someone who’d abandoned you; someone who so easily decided to turn against you, as if doing so didn’t phase them in the slightest.

But regardless, ignoring the heinous crimes he’d committed, did you still believe he never loved you?

Were his actions before this messy conflict never enough to convince you of his sentiments?

What about all the times he’d hold you in his arms, whispering to you about how happy you made him feel? Did you really not believe any of that? Was he pouring out his heart’s inner-most secrets for nothing?

Or what about the times he’d surprise you with food, despite rations being low? He almost got caught stealing food for you so many times; which was unwise of him considering the fact that it could’ve possibly had him kicked out of the survey corps: meaning his whole plan to infiltrate the military would’ve gone up in flames.

Or, perhaps how he’d always try to keep an eye on you during missions, making sure you never encountered something too dangerous for you to handle. You always complained that he was being too paranoid, but it was only because, unlike you, he was aware of the kind of power titans held; the kind of pain they could’ve, he could’ve, inflicted upon a tiny human being.

All he ever wanted was to protect you, to do what was best for you. Did you really never realize that?

Even after he made Annie and Bertholdt promise not to lay a hand on you during their countless fights with the survey corps, even after all the times he put your saftey before his own mission, was it still never enough?

Even when he left you behind, did you really never consider the fact that he could’ve been doing it because he thought it’s what’s best for you?

You would’ve never been safe with someone like him, so he spared you from that danger by leaving.

Even though he caused you much pain by doing so, did you still never put that together?

“I understand if you don’t believe me when I say this,” Reiner began, “But I never stopped loving you.”

Even before any words left your lips, the doubtful look stringing along your face was enough to tell Reiner that you didn’t believe him; or were highly skeptical at the very least.

“If that’s true, then why wasn’t that enough for you to stay?”

He’d asked himself the same question so many times before. Why didn’t he just give up on his mission and stay with you? It’s not like he wouldn’t have preferred that option in comparison to the one he chose.

Why didn’t he just let the Marleyans presume him dead, forgetting his life in Marley and starting a new one with you on Paradis?

He wanted to, he considered it even. But there was one factor he was forgetting that made all the difference; one tiny reminder that convinced him to abandon that option in the end: you deserved better.

If he stayed behind like you would’ve wanted him to, like he would’ve wanted to, then he would’ve been living a lie; deception would’ve been rooted at the heart of your relationship.

He would’ve never been able to fully open up to you because doing so would mean he told you the truth about his past, about where he’s from and why he came here in the first place. He’d have to fabricate every detail about his life up until this point; tricking you into believing he was born inside the walls just like you. He’d need to have an excuse for everything: why his parents weren’t around, where he was born, what his home life was like, everything.

Nothing about his life would be real anymore, from the moment he’d wake up, to the second he drifted off to sleep at night, he’d be living a lie.

Every time he’d look at your innocent expression he’d be reminded of the secrets he was keeping from you, the lies he was tricking you with; and he couldn’t live like that. He refused to live like that.

“Staying would’ve only put you in danger, so I left, taking the danger with me.”

“I see.” Your voice was strained, as if you were having trouble processing everything. The shock from seeing him again so unexpectedly still hadn’t exactly worn off yet, and with the addition of all this new information piled on top, you didn’t necessarily know what to say; or how to react.

So, instead, you remained silent, hoping some ideas might materialize inside your head as you waited.

However, you weren’t kept waiting for long because Reiner quickly took an initiative to speak once again, asking something that left you stunned,

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Your head quickly flung upwards to look at him, contemplating whether or not you heard him right.

“What??” You asked, aghastly, desperately hoping you misheard his question.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He repeated, unfortunately proving that your ears were working just fine, and that you did in fact hear him correctly the first time.

He only meant it as a farewell, nothing more.

He knew this might very well be the last time he ever saw you again, so, with that in mind, he wanted to leave you with something pleasant to remember him by.

He had every intention of letting you go, he’d walk away and you’d never have to see him again afterward.

Just one last memory with you, that’s all he wanted. One last moment to reminisce on the merriment of his past before he let you go for good.

That’s what he wanted at least, but, when you finally uttered a response, he realized it might’ve been too much to ask for.

“I’m with someone else now, Reiner.”

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(YES THERE WILL BE A PART THREE. So comment below if you want to be tagged).

Tags : @thebadbatch @mvteria @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams

This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

Keep in mind that commenting to tell me what you liked, what you don’t, how I can improve, and any suggestions you have helps me A LOT more than simply liking my posts. If you’ve had the time to read my story, how much longer does it take to leave me some feedback on it? 😊

[scumbagjaeger]

Rating: 18+ mdni!

Whatever you do, do not imagine Porco realizing he has a breeding kink after inheriting the Jaw Titan (but in an angsty way)

Imagine knowing the Warriors, being friends with Reiner and the others but Porco always hating you for some reason? Like the constant bickering between you two, nothing you say will ever be right in his eyes, etc. You're friends with them all but you're vocal about how heartbreaking their line of work is. Thirteen year lifespan? Porco's adamant that it's their duty to protect and serve Marley, and that it's their legacy to do so, but their abandoning their families and giving up the chance to have families of their own? He just thinks your selfish for putting your own needs before your country.

After Fort Slava, Porco and the other Warriors return, now Porco has inherited the Jaw Titan and there's is a power and honor that he has, but he does feel the weight of his choice as well, and sometimes it keeps him up at night when he thinks about the clock that has started counting down in his mind? And about what you had said about legacy?

Sometime during the first battle in Liberio, Porco is in his titan form and he spots you rushing into a building that's too close to the fighting for his comfort, and he feels an overpowering urge to scream, to emerge from his titan and pull you out of there himself, before you get hurt. But then you're quickly running out, holding a child in your arms? He watches you bring the crying infant to the mother and father. They envelop you with open arms and are crying too, thanking you for saving their child, just moments before the house you were in gets crushed as the battle continues. He thinks about that at night too, how you risked your life to save another. He also can't get the imagine of you holding that child so close to your chest. He remembers you smiling as you discussed your desire for a child someday, and rather shamefully he can feel his chest tighten, a familiar pool of heat forming in his abdomen as he lets his thoughts wander.

Days later, you're with the Warriors again, still fazed with how close you were the warfare and the brutality of it all, and Porco can't even look at you because he's realizing now how close he got to losing you? But you're not even his, what is he talking about. He excuses himself from dinner as soon as you set your plate down next to him, and he can feel your gaze on him as he heads to his room.

Not too long after, there's a knock on his door and it's you, and it's like a dam has opened up. He unleashes everything onto you. How stupid are you, you could have gotten yourself killed, what is he supposed to do with himself if you're gone. It slips out before he can even think about it, but you're holding him, trying to calm him down because somewhere during his meltdown at you he's begun to cry, but he can't help himself from grabbing your jaw and bringing your lips to meet his.

When he feels your hands make their way through his hair, he wastes no time leading you to his bed, not breaking the kiss for a second until you are both panting for air, your back pressed against the cool sheets on his bed and he's already undoing the buttons on your shirt. He's not thinking straight, too delirious and drunk on you to even remove it entirely, so he undoes as many buttons as he can manage before dipping his hand under your shirt and letting the other hand tug down your pants.

Do not think about how messy and sporadic he would be desperately clinging to you as he ruts you into the mattress, biting and leaving marks up and down your body that he wants to stay forever. He wants to stay in your forever, buried deep inside you as your legs are wrapped around him, eyes rolled back and you're letting the prettiest sounds escape your lips.

The request probably falls out of his mouth before he can even process it, all in one go, can-I-cum-in-you and he can hardly contain himself as he hears you whine back yes, please, Porco, cum inside me.

Do not imagine him letting out a whimper when he cums, letting his head fall in the crook of your neck as he shakes, trying to fill you up as much as possible. Not long afterwards he feels your walls tighten around him as you climax and he continues to thrust into you, helping you ride out your orgasm while feeding his own arousal once more.

He'd beg you to let him fuck you once more, just to fill you up further with his cum, and to make sure he's put a baby in you. His logic is already out the window but his hands find their way to your jaw and he kisses you so gently as he begs to breed you. His body shakes at the idea and he rambles, half out of his mind in post sex haze and delirium as he babbles about putting a baby in you, his baby, making you his and giving you that child that you so desperately want.

And you let him fuck you again, bringing another orgasm out of the both of you that makes him ache. If you feel your neck start to moisten, the cloth of your shirt dampening as he cries into it, you never say anything. You rub his back and kiss his hair as he fucks into you with the last of his strength, even staying buried in you for a moment after.

After he finally pulls out, he stays in between your legs, resting on top of you, holding you so close it's almost like he's melting into you. He might even snake a hand down and coax his cum back into you as it seeps down your thighs.

Do not think about the type of pillow talk you have with Porco afterwards, where he tells you that you should leave Liberio and find somewhere safer. He promises that he'll find you, no matter where you go, and that maybe you two can even run away together. He'll promise that you'll never work another day in your life and that he'll keep you safe, always.

Whatever you do, do not think about the quiet voice that fills the room as Porco looks up at you and asks, "if it's a boy, d'you think we can name him after Marcel?", and do not think about how his eyes light up when you agree. And do not think about waking up as he's preparing to leave in the morning, promising to be there, but then he's not. Do not think about Reiner looking at you with dread as you ask him where Porco is after the next battle in Liberio. Do not imagine waking up alone the days to come.

[oivsyo]

Catharsis moment for the shifters trio in 'Bertolt survived AU '

I love them so much

this is the smallest thing I can do for these babies (இ﹏இ`｡)

I've been thinking about this AU and scene for so long and I'm so happy that I finally made it a reality. I'm not used to drawing angsty stuff, so I mostly sobbed pathetically all the time imagining the storm of emotions the three of them would get through in this scene  T___T

no-text version are available on my b00sty for free 

Highres versions are posted there for a coin =)

Long story short: I was flirting with the possibility what if the syringe in s3 ep18 got broken. Armin and Erwin die. Hange takes a risky decision - to leave Bert alive and imprison him instead to find out more about titans.

At first Bert is not willing to cooperate, and communication fails. But gradually they become kinda friends with Hange. He remains imprisoned but is not treated like a prisoner anymore. Hange visits him regularly and even brings him books from Marley survey mission. Bert tells some common things about titans that Hange doesn’t know tho.

When the Rumbling begins, Bert hears Eren's command, addressed to the titans in the walls, and being the holder of essentially the same titan*, he transforms, following the command, destroying the place of his imprisonment. But, unlike other titans, Bert has the mind and will so he fights Eren’s command and doesn’t join other titans. Then he accidentally finds Annie at a fair in the nearest town, and then together they encounter Reiner and other characters in the forest.

The scene on the art is an alternate s4 ep25, the trio finally reunites after 4 years during which Reiner thought Bertolt was dead and Annie was listed as missing.

* - i once came across a short comics with this idea, and I liked it a lot so I decided to pick it up and adjust to my AU only that it that comics Bert joined other titans. I wanted to add a link to this comics but failed to find it. Maybe someone will recognize it and send me a link? UPD I found this comic!

I’m not able to draw without making plots behind an art in my head xD

[shingekinomyfeelings]

I wish I could write WHILE I am laying in bed with my eyes closed. For some reason when I'm laying down I can compose entire paragraphs so eloquently that I get a little excited about writing them down, but when I sit up I guess they spill out of my head or something.

[levi-ackermvn]

another incredible and beautiful commission from neverwho_art on ig !! my jaw was on the FLOOR when i saw the final product, it’s absolutely stunning (つω`｡) here is the new oc i mentioned on my instgram !! meet odette mayer, one of the 104th cadets (´◡`) she’s been in my head for almost as long as sloane, so i’m excited to finally introduce her to all of you !! her and reiner’s story is obviously very angsty and complicated, but i love them a lot and want to wrap them up in warm blankets 

[ DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR TRACE!!! this artwork was commissioned for my fic so please do not steal it ]

[ this is an oc x canon post. if you do not like it, please kindly leave. any negative, hateful, or weird comments that has nothing to do with my post or fic will be deleted ]

[moonspirit]

OML YALL AND YOUR ANGSTY SELVES NEED TO CHILL TF OUT!! Moon, to maybe level out this angst, can we get some headcannons for the shenanigans that our ambassador crew gets up to while traveling? Just some funny HCs please

Ahaha Hello anons xD A bit late responding to these, sorry!

I think our Ambassadors absolutely get themselves into a LOT of trouble during travel. Especially Jean, Connie and Armin, because let's face it... they're island bumpkins. Pieck is not one but she'll gleefully join in on whatever mess these three create - you know, because some Pieck-spice makes everything nice!!

Car drives are a nightmare at first because the 3 Paradis boys are simply too fascinated with the workings of the vehicle to even get on. Whenever the car honks, they burst out laughing and Annie is so embarrassed to even be seen with them #_# It's game over when Jean finally gets a license to drive tho. Turns out he's generally very talented at most things, but drives like a fucking idiot. He thinks he looks very cool and debonair but everybody's hanging on to dear life. RIP, one Ambassador might actually just kill all the others.

Reiner, Jean, Connie & Pieck absolutely go overboard drinking in whatever new country they're in - Armin suffers as a result because he's a lightweight but they make him drink for the spirit and fun of it and every. single. time. he gets absolutely smashed with just a few sips. Lucky for Annie though, as annoyed as she looks, Armin's like a super affectionate puppy in this state.

Hotel rooms are also a nightmare. They book three rooms and end up using just one. Pieck steals tissues and tiny packets of shampoo and soap wherever they go; she's a serial thief of all things little and free. The desserts that accompany them during meals always go missing, and after a point, the others stop wondering where they go. Aruani manage to sneak off to some isolated place at any cost - even it just ten minutes.

The six usually get dangerously close to some public gaffe or the other because they're silly idiots. But somehow, by mutual panic and strategic planning, they manage to fix it before the curtains go up and the world sees only impeccably dressed men and women in very nice suits and definitely not the broken arm of a statue stuffed up the back of Connie's jacket.

:3

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

Cigarettes😸

✩ the 104th squad reacting to you smoking cigarettes ✩

modern au

eren jaeger doesn’t want to judge you but he does. he lectures on why they’re bad for you. he’s totally hypocritical though because you know that boy is clutching cool mint vape. when you point that out, he shuts up.

armin arlert is thrown off when you light one up. he asks when you started and how long you’ve been smoking for. he doesn’t like your vice, but he won’t stop you. he hopes that you’ll quit.

connie springer doesn’t smoke cigarettes, however, he thinks it makes you look extremely cool. he says it reminds him of a cool guy in a movie. not a big fan of the smell and is definitely the type to cough obnoxiously loud if you light one up next to him.

jean kirstein is sort of impressed with you, at first. he didn’t think you had it in you to smoke. jeans a habitual smoker too so often times you’d go out together to have one. eventually, he thinks that you should stop.

reiner braun HATES the fact that you’re a smoker. he hates the smell, the way it makes the air feel and he mostly hates how bad it is for you. he whines whenever you light one up. “seriously, right now?”

bertholdt hoover doesn’t really care. it’s your choice and it’s your body. plus, he’s smoked a few during his rebellious phase. also, totally smokes them when he drinks because drunk cigarettes don’t count.

marco bodt wishes you wouldn’t. he’s really supportive about it though. he knows it annoys you so he doesn’t tell you to quit, he just kinda looks at you and it says it all. he wishes jean would quit too.

sasha braus thinks they’re stinky. she doesn’t mind if you light one up around her, she just wants to stand a few feet away from you so the wind doesn’t blow the smoke towards her.

mikasa ackerman doesn’t really care either. she used to smoke them back when she was really angsty but she quit. she also doesn’t give a fuck if quit or not. also, would totally judge what type you smoke.

ymir’s a smoker. she thought it was cool when she was younger and then winded up getting addicted. she’s always got cigarettes on her and you two often wind up sharing each others. always has a lighter on her.

historia reiss despises smoking. there isn’t one thing she likes about it. she thinks you look like an idiot and she’s sure to let you know.

annie leonhardt often asks to bum one. she really doesn’t give a shit what you do. “smoke them or don’t.” she’s glad you always have one when she needs one though.

✩ my jean fic

✩ my ko-fi

[enretrogue]

𝗝𝗔𝗡𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦

༝༚༝༚ = Black/POC Works ⎢ 24’ Fic Rec M.List

ATTACK ON TITAN (SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN):

Multi-Character

Fluffy HCs Pt. 2 (Porco, Colt, Zeke, Reiner) — @spiteless-xo

‘Cause I Got My Love to Keep Me Warm (Eren, Mikasa, Porco) — @violetarks

Trigger Finger (Levi, Connie, Porco) — @ilyluffy

Their Favorite Body Part (Erwin, Eren, Armin, Porco, Reiner, Levi) — @tonilovessushi

College Majors (Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Porco, Reiner, Levi, Zeke) — @scumbagjaeger

Them w/ a Cling S/O (Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, Porco, Marcel, Pieck, Levi, Hange, Erwin)— @420ruffy

Telling Him You’re Pregnant (Zeke, Eren, Porco, Reiner) — @marsbutterfly

Expecting (Levi, Eren, Porco) — @xokiddo

Poly Relationship (Porco + Reiner) — @vainilla-milk

Porco Galliard

Tired Porco Doesn’t Know Where He’s Laying — @mommypieck

Vacation w/ Porco — ^

Porco and Big Tummies — ^

Suddenly Becoming a Dad ⎢ As a Dad — @spiteless-xo

General NSFW HCs — ^

Make Me a Father — @roseofdarknessblog

Suffering the Consequences — ^

Northern Lights — ^

Everything Will Be Okay — ^

NSFW Alphabet — @scumbagjaeger

Breeding Kink (but make it angsty) — ^

College!Porco HCs — ^

How Do You Call Your Loverboy — @cafedanslanuit

Fitness Instructor Porco Galliard — ^

Blurb — @we-are-so-close

So Happy — ^

Yandere(ish) Porco Smut — ^

Game Over — @yeagerdaydreams

Off to Sleep — ^

Kind Regards, I’m Quitting — @persistent-peach

Red Tape — ^

Dad!Porco — @xokiddo

Protective!Porco — ^

Sugar Daddy!Porco — ^

Halloween Prompt — ^

Fan Service — @thegetoufather

Rugby Player Porco — ^

Pink Shorts — @fierydiamond

You Belong With Me— ^

Precipice ⎢ Ch. 2 — @mochalate

Blurb — @tangerinexwrites

“That’s for acting like a fucking brat today” — @fscottcatsgerald

Brat Taming — @nixie-writes-aot

Photo Album — @vainilla-milk

Porco Comforting You After Seeing Your Ex — @dabilove27

My Princess — @angelsdevils

HCs for Porco — @missmeinyourbones

No Strings Attached — @mvrtaiswriting

Husband!Porco ⎢ Part 2 ⎢ Part 3 ⎢ Part 4 — @lostinwildflowers

Brother’s Best Friend — @oneoftheextras

That’s My Smart Girl — @toorusluvr

Sister Fucker — @ilyluffy

Riding Porco HCs — @ackermansupremacy

Blood ‘n Guts — @luvhotline

BF!Porco Texts ⎢ Part 2 — @plutowrites

Your Daughter Calls Porco “Dad” — @tinyjeanmarco

Worth It — @literaltrashforeverything

Scratch — @whats-her-quirk

Porco Boyfriend Tweets — @re1nerisms

Show Him Who You Belong To — @jean-kayak ༝༚༝༚

Porco Having a Crush on You HCs — @bubbleteaimagine

THE GRAY MAN:

Court Gentry/Sierra Six

Polaroid — @renren-006

His Bonnie on the Side — @wiidvw ༝༚༝༚

Thoughts on Sierra Six as a Romantic Partner — @drivinmeinsane

We’ll Always Have Cuba — @companionjones

THE LAST OF US:

Joel Miller

Live From New York — @cowgurrrl

Beautiful Girls — ^

Love You — ^

Unknown — ^

I’m Still Standing — ^

My Girls — ^

Lucky — ^

Girls on Film — ^

I’m Just Ken — ^

Please Come Home For Christmas — ^

So This Is Love — ^

NCIS:

Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Busted — @writeandsurvive

Babysitting — ^

Birthday Imagine — @kdogreads

Blind Dates — ^

Are You Done? — ^

Ain’t Woman Enough — ^

Annoyance — @lizzyk137

Surprise — @encryptidone

We Keep This Love In a Paragraph — @chiefdirector

You Ain’t Alone — @ash-whimsicalfanfic

[devil-in-hiding]

Closeted art student Jean who got stuck (he loves it) with full ride scholarship, star quarterback Reiner Braun as his roommate

and he expects the blonde to be the biggest meat head in existence, constantly working out, bringing girls back to their dorm, loud music and drunken weekends

when in reality he lives with a giant angsty golden retriever who a d o r e s the earth Jean walks on. Reiner always brings him left overs when he refuses to go out to eat, craming for an exam he’d forgotten about. Wakes Jean up every morning before he leaves for practice because the other usually forgets to set his alarm, and he’s left him a fresh coffee on the counter.

When Jean has a bad day, he’ll come back to the dorm spotless and his favorite blanket on the small futon, a movie ready to be watched and a small note “sorry today sucked, grabbing some pizza with the guys and i’ll bring you back some - <3 Reiner”

Reiner, who absolutely LIGHTS UP when Jean actually makes it to one of the at home games, wearing a ‘Warrior’s’ hoodie, and when he gives Reiner a small smile and a thumbs up, it’s almost like Reiner was a totally different person on the field.

Jean, who is so far in the closet that he can not see he has the star of the campus wrapped around his finger.

[this-is-krikkit]

🤘 SNK characters & their fave metal subgenre 🎶

as requested by the lovely Val @youre-ackermine

Mikasa: black metal. she knows every single word of every single most satanic-ritual-like song out there, that she sings with the straightest, bitchiest of resting faces. an Icon (a scary one) ex: 𝕮𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖍

Armin: i'm sorry, but i'm not sorry, he's a metalcore babe. LISTEN. he's a freak, ok? he just hides it well, that's all. ex: LANDMVRKS

Eren: power/heavy metal. that boy is angry and LOUD about it, and has never met an epic musical call to violence he didn't love! ex: 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔰

Erwin: symphonic/melodic metal, sweetheart got a Classical Music Education he can't quite shake. (there are better examples for this style out there but i love these guys so i put them here!) ex: DARK TRANQUILITY

Hange: folk metal 100%!! metal from all over the world with unusual instruments and techniques for the genre, either from their own culture or others, they're just really hungry for any band that thinks outside the classic "four/five white guys in a garage" box! ex: 𝖚𝖚𝖍𝖆𝖎

Levi: proper thrash metal fan, i feel like he'd love the switch between powerful riffs/quieter rhythms with full on singing and guitar solos. might seem basic, but he knows all of the classics down to the pieces only hardcore fans have ever listened to, and even if he's open to newer stuff, nothing hits like old fashioned metal for him. ex: METALLICA

Bertholdt: rap metal, because he's a whole other kind of freak, isn't he?? don't you dare undermine "non-pure" metal subgenres in his presence because he will lose his usually collected shit. ex: 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙

Reiner: alternative metal, kind of mainstream except he's truly feeling those angsty lyrics deep inside. just. let him book a therapist appointment pls?? ex: AVENGED SEVENFOLD

Annie: whatever the fuck babymetal does, that unexpected crossover between j-pop and heavy metal but she's kind of closeted about it because yk, it doesn't say Tough Girl (hopefully there are better examples of that style out there that i don't know about bc the concept is fascinating but bm live aren't... great) ex: 🪽BABYMETAL🪽

Sasha: stoner metal ftw!! she's all about those Vibes where the crowd is usually swaying more than fighting (she doesn't like pogo), plus the melodies remind her of the old rock she listened to with her dad! ex: BLACK RAINBOWS

Connie: punk rock/metal, which looks and sounds nothing more than stupid and noisy to others, but that's how our boy fights the system at his level and congratulations to him for that. he's the proper example of "chaotic good" imo and so is that subgenre <3 ex: Ｎｏｖａ ｔｗｉＮｓ

Jean: prog/nu metal and really anything that connects to "lighter" types of music. he's t e r r i f i e d of the kind Mikasa listens to, but he's trying his best to understand. probably also a swiftie deep inside (not even that deep..) ex: 𝙺𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝚅𝙾𝙾𝙻